I, Alucard
by Degan
Summary: Reflections from Alucard’s POV during various times in his life. Spoilers from other fics and the AnimeManga later on. R&R please. Disclaimer: yada yada, Hellsing, Alucard, yada.
1. Prolouge: The Release

A/N: So, what went through his mind as he ripped them to shreds? Read on!

* * *

I remember that night so well. The sounds, the smells...

A crash, noise.

Blood.

There, _there!_

I had lost track of the years since I had been ordered in this dank room. My stomach began to roll as I smelled fresh blood nearby. It was young, but it hardly mattered.

I felt a presence at the door, and I recognized it as a Hellsing. She touched the door, and I showed her the images that surrounded my capture, though greatly distorted. I wanted her to fear me. She backed away, and the touch of her mind faded.

There, just _there!_

Could I be getting released from this Hell, this prison now? How long had it been? Months?

Years?

Decades?

Centuries?

I could not be sure. I was nearly mad with hunger. I sometimes fancied that I could talk with Mina, sometimes with Harker, though that man grated on my nerves. He had made a farce of my hospitality.

Some people just shouldn't be given a room when they come calling.

Voices, a gunshot, more voices.

Blood freed from the body.

I felt myself struggle to climb to my feet, to tear from the wall where I had been fastened, but I was too weak. There, you idiot, _there,_ food, nourishment, sustenance!

I slumped, the curtain of my white hair falling between me and the opposite wall as it had some many times over the...Years? Months?

Eons?

She leaned up against the door, and I felt her fear, sensed her situation.

_I know you don't want to die tonight, _I said into her mind.

The door creaked open, a small figure leaping through.

Her? That slip, that barely grown girl was the heir of Hellsing, come to release me?

A hoarse laugh, another gunshot. A feminine cry of pain.

The splatter of blood on the ground between my knees.

There, _just there, _you can reach it, go, go, now! _NOW!_

There is something about blood from a noble person, it has a, a taste, a hint, a _soupçon, _of class, of vintage. It was as though it was the finest wine ever fermented and aged for years in the barrel, then decades in the bottle.

And it was just between my knees.

Just out of reach.

I heard voices, muttering, chattering, laughing. I couldn't make out the words, my own mind and body were shouting at me.

There, life, drink it, free yourself! Kill them all!

But she...

Her, whose blood I know smelt before me...

No, she was not worthy of the death about to befall her. The blood of the one holding the pistol on her was foul, rotting from within. The others seemed afraid to be in here.

I knew she was the heir to Hellsing, and if she was here, under attack, that meant that Lionel was dead.

Pity, I rather liked the man outside of his paranoia about me.

I wonder what befell of Walter...

I knew that by drinking her blood, I would be establishing the bonds that would contain me as much as they could, linking my mind to hers, making her call irresistible. But no more. I served these people, this family out of a sense of honor. They had a reason for doing what they did, and though her ancestor, Abraham Van Helsing, might have been a thorn in my side, I can hardly blame them for protecting their homeland from these maggots that threatened to take it over.

Just as the man whose blood bore a tint of the Hellsing line, rotting from within, was threatening to take over this group that I served loyally.

I managed to get my knees beneath me, and bent forward as much as I could in my bindings, stretching out my tongue.

Almost...

Almost...

_There!_

It was indeed Hellsing blood. I could feel the mental link growing as one of the men cried out. "What was that? The dead body moved! Mr. Hellsing, what is that?"

Richard, Lionel's brother.

Worse than the FREAKS, to betray his blood. No vampire would dream of doing such things. Blood is more than our food; it is the coin of our realm, and the ties made with it are more binding than the most potent spells.

He said something, but I missed it as I flexed my arms, ripping the brittle leather of the bindings that had held me for the years.

"A vampire? Is this how you protect me?"

So the little one hadn't known what was down here.

Amusing.

"Shoot him! Kill him! Send him back to Hell!"

Ah, some fun to be had, it seems.

The first guard hadn't even cleared his gun from his jacket before my hands tore through his skull, one hand shearing through the flesh and bone, the other gripping the top and pulling it to me. I drank the blood flowing from his skull greedily, feeling my power and strength return with each drop.

The other men died quickly, a better death than they deserved. The man named Richard, this Benedict, this Judas, stood with that Walther PPK still held in his hand, whimpering as I approached. I would not drink his blood.

I have standards.

I merely tore his arm off at the elbow, the arm and gun landing in front of the girl.

I looked at her. "You are the one who disturbed my rest," I said in an effort to introduce myself.

"Don't come any closer to me, monster."

I smiled, blood still on my lips. "Your sweet blood was the first I've tasted in over twenty silent years."

She shot me five times.

It kind of hurt.

My pride, that is.

I laughed as I slammed my fist into the wall by her head. I still wanted her to fear me. "Those souls who suffer their righteousness, will know their eternal inheritance." I said to her, intending her to understand that I was at her command, and had killed those men in her defense.

"Vile demon," she spat at me. "I am the lord and master of the Hellsing Family, Integra Wingates Hellsing. I would die before allowing a vampire to order me."

So much for that working.

"That gun is useless against me. Give up, little girl and listen..."

"Shut up! I'll never give up. I would die before giving up. That is my duty and pride as the leader of the Hellsing Organization."

Well, so much for her fearing me. But she was her father's daughter, no mistake. I laughed.

"Wonderful! Just _wonderful!_ You make my blood boil, you are father's daughter!"

I knelt in front of her, to her great surprise. "Forgive my impertinence, Sir Hellsing. Your orders," I raised my head to look at her. "My Master?"

The shocked look on her face was priceless.

I heard a scrabbling sound. "Ridiculous. The brat, and a beast? Damn it! I am the leader of Hellsing, Hellsing is mine!"

That git was up again. He picked up a fallen pistol and fired it.

I slammed my arm out, catching the bullet before it hit Integra. "Your blood rots," I snarled at the refuse heap masquerading as a man. "You are not the master of this house."

He started whimpering again. Simpleton. I've faced ghouls with more fortitude.

"What's your name?" asked the girl as she steadied her arms across mine, aiming the Walther at her uncle.

"Alucard," I said. Names, such a human concept. Go with what Lionel called me? Why not? "That is the name my last master used."

She fired, the bullet ripping into her uncle between his eyes.

"Bastard," she spat at him.

Then, preceded by the pistol, she fell to the floor. At first I though she had passed out, then I realized she was weeping.

It took me a minute to try to understand why: that she had just shot a man she considered family, who had watched over her when she was young. She was weeping for the man that had tried to murder her.

I reached out and placed my hand on her uninjured shoulder. I was going to offer a word of solace, something along the lines of 'It was him or you. You did what was needed.'

Those words never left my throat. As soon as my hand touched her shoulder, she leapt at me, flinging her arms about my neck, still weeping. I knelt there for a moment, arms limp at my sides, not sure what to do. I had always preferred scaring humans to consoling them. After a moment I wrapped my arms around her and held her as she cried, cried over the death of her father, the betrayal of her uncle, her killing of the man that had tried to kill her.

I don't think I'll ever understand humans.

After a few minutes, she pulled back, wiping her eyes. She composed herself and looked at me. "Alucard, you said?"

I nodded.

"Why were you locked up down here?"

"That," I said quietly. "Is a story that is very long and very detailed. Before I tell you, I suggest you get that wound bound. Go," I gestured at the stairs. "I'll clean up down here." The blood would finish reviving me. All but that of Richard Hellsing.

That I would leave for the rats.

She nodded, and left me to feed.

So, now, ten years later, I have been released, and I have been allowed greater freedom than I ever had under Lionel. And I feel something for this human, something I cannot describe.

Feel something for Integra Hellsing. But what is it? Surely it cannot be love.

Can it?

Ah well, I'll think on it after I return from Cheddar.

I do so love Search and Destroy.


	2. The Times that have Come About

A/N: There is a lot I refer to in this that will be cleared up by reading my other Hellsing fic. Continuing this due to the enjoyability of sitting in the mindset of a slightly insane vampire.

* * *

Let me start by asking you to suspend your disbelief, your preconceptions, what you have heard about my kind. 

We do not fear holy objects, for that is a superstition started by the ignorant.

We do not lurk about in the dark, affected by sunlight. Only the weak and newly turned are harmed by the sunlight; the rest of us find it annoying, since our eyes are highly sensitive.

We do not wantonly attack and feed off people in the streets. Most of us have discrete tastes, more do not even drain their 'victims', prefering to dine on small amounts of blood offered freely by friends; and once we are released from the servant bonds, we are capable of eating any number of things, though we derive no nourishment from them. I myself enjoy a good dish of goulash once in a while, though blood is what drives my body.

We are not emotionless, evil creatures. We feel the same things we did as humans, as do those born as vampires. It is a relic of all rational beings, all creatures capable of more than instinctual thought, feelings. Evil is something that some of us _choose _to be. It can be fun at times.

I ask you to remember these things as I relate the following tales to you, for those objects will be vital to the stories.

For this one, I had been asked to a ball by a seventeen year old girl. It was something that I had not partaken in for the better part of two centuries. Well, if you discount that night with Mina. What a disaster that was.

Integra stood in front of me, her amazingly mature face set in the lines that would brook no argument. "I may have to attend this bloody function, and a familiar face would be more than welcome. Walter can't make it, and I don't know anyone else here that I trust enough."

I wanted her to understand that I didn't do dances. The thought of all that blood, the chances to evoke fear in people's souls, it would be difficult to resist. And she would surely put me on probation as a result. Not that it would affect me, but she would probably keep me cooped up in the manor instead of letting me out to hunt down FREAKS and ghouls, a pastime I had come to enjoy in the last several years.

"Master, if you command it, it will be done, but I do not relish the thought of several hours in formal attire listening to what your generation calls music, holding myself in check. Find another to do it."

Her face narrowed. A bad sign.

"I am not asking you, Alucard. I am telling you."

Well, so much for getting out of that one. Though I find that on a deep level I particularly didn't want to object too much. I have these times when being evil isn't exactly something I want to do, to act a little less insane, less evil. Like that time with the Belmonts. Simon Belmont had taken it upon himself to rid the land of me and tried twice and thought he had succeeded, because of the same superstitions I had told you about. His descendants continued to attack at intervals through the years. It got so annoying I finally posed as my son, calling myself Alucard and aided them in 'destroying' myself for all time.

And now I find myself under that name again, feigning a way of life again. The cycles of life.

I suppose I should clarify something. By our natures, being the nocturnal predators that we are, we are violent creatures at times. It is a part of our nature, as most predators are. But one does not look on as a lion attacks a gazelle and call it a monster, no. That is reserved for those that prey upon man, the 'top' of the food chain. As a result of our predatory side, we revel in the sensations that bloodlust creates in us, the euphoria, the ecstasy that it creates. Blood nourishes us, as I have said before; the blood produced by our bodies has difficulties in carrying sufficient oxygen to our cells, which is the way that our bondage was created when that man centuries ago sold his soul to survive. While we can survive indefinitely without fresh blood, it saps our energy, making us weak and causing our bodies to draw resources from the extremities. My hair, when I was released from the cellar, was a shock of white from the deprevation. It is now again black, as dark as pitch, as the night that I inhabit. We also start to go mad as the amount of oxygen circulated in our blood decreases.

"Of course, Master," I said, leaning on the title more than I usually would. There were times that being bound to serve a teenage girl was more annoying than any other thing I had experienced in the millennium I had lived. They are flighty, emotional, and very difficult to reason with. And when that teenager is also your Master, it gets worse, for she feels that the slightest whim should be obeyed without argument. Integra was better than most, understanding her duties and the limits of her control over me, but I still found her annoying at times when she viewed me as no more than a pet.

She looked at me, her face softening somewhat. "If I could get out of this, I would, but as the head of Hellsing I am expected to make an appearance with an escort. You should take it as a sign of the trust I have in you that I want you to go."

"And you should understand that I look forward to this as I would to drinking your uncle's blood." She had asked why I left Richard's body alone while drinking and lapping up every last drop of the red liquid from my cell. I had explained it to her as best I could to a young teen. I believe I likened it to her eating garbage from a trash midden, or some such rubbish. Finding similes that made sense to humans has become difficult as time went on and the memories from my time as a human became more and more dim. Had I been as whimsical and unpredictable as the ones I now know?

She looked at me as I said that and I caught a flash of understanding from her. She felt the same way, or near enough that she felt sympathy for my situation. I could no longer probe her mind at will now that she had developed the strength of will to shut me out, but sometimes strong emotions slipped free, loud as a shout in a bazaar. The sympathy she felt now was one of them.

And every now and then, when she looked at me, another came through, dim and uncertain, but there all the same. If I had to apply a label to it, I would call it affection, caring for my wellbeing. I could see it in her eyes sometimes when I went out on a particularly difficult mission.

She started walking away, the skirt she was wearing more mature than the one she had worn when she had appeared in my life three years ago but still showing a hint of a carefree spirit. I suppose that is why I endured her attitudes: she was a refreshing change from Lionel's maddening drive for mastery over me and his paranoia about not being able to do so and the disdain that the others had shown me through the years. She showed me genuine respect, and so I treated her accordingly.

Of course, I did so love taunting her from time to time. The look of irritation that crossed her face whenever I just popped in from the ceiling, floor, or mirrors was priceless. Unfortunately, it had resulted in the removal of any mirrors from her bedroom and bathroom.

As though I would intrude upon her in those places without her permission: I am a gentleman. Though, when I was raised, it was considered perfectly acceptable to bed any woman you wished providing she wasn't married. Something through the years must have tamed me a bit.

She turned as she left. "Do find something comfortable to wear. Something a little less dated than what you have now."

I looked at my clothes, the Victorian era jacket draped over my lanky frame, the red ribbon tied like a cravat at my throat. I had thought them rather stylish. Ah well, mustn't stand out, I suppose. It was still little known that Hellsing had one of the creatures it hunted in its employ. That knowledge did not need to be disseminated.

I chose something similar to my normal attire, a slate grey suit with a double-breasted jacket and a white shirt, both in silk since the material would be comfortable against my hyper-sensitive skin. I put on a pair of white gloves that lacked the sigils that had been tattooed on my hands near a century ago to bind me to the wills and minds of the masters of the house I served. No need in having someone ask about what they meant.

I also found a tie that fit. It was black for most of the length, but at the bottom it bore a large eye. It was perfect. My hair I let stay wild and unkempt. She hadn't said anything about my hair.

Looking back at the time, I suppose that the ties and bonds I shared with her had been deeper than I had thought. Knowing what I know now, and with everything that has happened since then, I suppose it was obvious to anyone with the eyes to see it. Even that philosophical Dhampir I had known back in the Forties had commented on it during a recent adventure. He is off somewhere with the Police Girl, leaving me be for a time.

But I digress.

She came out in a long gown in a subtle blue colour that brought out her eyes and played off her dark skin and pale hair, which she had worked up in an intricate style on her head. A dark grey shawl was draped across her shoulders and contrasted the gown perfectly. Seeing this vision, I felt my mouth gape open. For the first time, I felt the glimmerings of a feeling in my gut, in a part of me that I had thought dead for centuries.

I now know that it was love.

The dance was uneventful and as dreadfully dull as I had feared, though I did have the satisfaction of showing my pointy smile at some obnoxious tosspots that had dared to accost my Master. They gulped and wobbled off, the smell of fear rolling from them like the aroma of a rose.

Ah, the simple joys of life.

Oh, I suppose from the human side it was a magnificent event. The music was a good mix from all times, the buffet was lined with simple yet delectable treats to head off hunger if not kill it directly and the punch was a delightfully fruity concoction that begged to be spiked with some sort of alcohol.

And I had the bad luck to be caught attempting to do so by Integra. I was denied Type O blood for a month. She could be so cruel at times that were she a vampire she would be the most desirable one I would know.

It was apparent after an hour that she already wished to leave, a conclusion I had reached as soon as they played a song by some idiot called Prince. I found it to be the most painful contrivance I had heard since Mozart dared to play one of his songs backwards as a joke at a ball. The humans found it to be of middling importance, but they couldn't hear what I did; the obvious squelches of overdubs that hid the painful lack of talent of whoever it was singing and playing guitar.

I was overjoyed when Barry White came over the PA next. I've always enjoyed a deep baritone voice for some reason. It just appeals to the part of me that respects power.

"Please tell me that you wish to leave now, Master," I remember asking her. "I could find something and create enough of a disturbance to disrupt the party." I was bored and was tired of being civil. While I wouldn't harm anyone, a little chaos would be good for their hearts.

And full of humour for me.

She looked like she was going to give me the ok for a moment, but then shook her head. "No, nothing like that. Do behave yourself."

"It would be sure to keep you from being invited back," I said.

"Oooh, tempting," she said, her face going distant as she weighed the options.

In retrospect, it really wasn't that bad of an evening, as far as things could go. Oh, I wished at the time for something to happen, but after a decade of fighting those damned artificial vampires that mock my kind, I enjoy the occasional quiet times I spend with Integra. It makes me feel like there is a balance to my life now.

Of course, going toe to toe with that Vatican puppy now and again is incredibly enjoyable as well. For a human, he's remarkably fun to toy with.

Now, almost twenty years after my release, I find that I have little to complain about. I have the Police Girl to torment, and she is starting to return the attacks now that she has the confidence and experience to do so, creating wonderful verbal sparring sessions. She'll make a fine No-Life Queen once she comes fully into her powers. The half-breed, Hunter, is as mischievous as he has ever been, the occasional prank being pulled off with his trademarked sarcasm. I'm happy to be working with him again; he's a capable warrior and enjoys a good brawl just as much as I do. He is probably the most responsible for Draculina's change, bringing about her confidence and quelling most of her doubts. She's accepted that she isn't human now, but she has realized that that does not mean in any way that she has no humanity. I think they went hunting tonight, looking for something warm to drink.

And Integra.

She's matured into a most wonderful woman. And the changes that took place after our last major outing have made her even more enjoyable to be around.

I just wish that Walter was still young enough to go and traipse around with us again. It just isn't the same now that James and I are working together again.

Ah well, the wheel of time rolls forward only.

I wonder if there'll be something Integra wants hunted down tonight.

If not, I'll just see if I can ruffle the Police Girl's feathers.

After all, just because I have some humanity doesn't mean I can't be a monster from time to time.

It's the most enjoyable part of it all.

Heh.

Ha ha.

Heh ha ha.

Hahahahaha.

Heh hahahahaha hehahahahahahaha.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!


	3. Draculina: The Police Girl

A/N: I'm going to skim through some personal thoughts about his 'co-workers' before doing another memory.

* * *

It was a perfect night. A lovely moon rose, the sky taking on the reddish tinge that it did for those of my kind, providing illumination for those of the night. 

I heard the moans of a ghoul nearby, along with the scent of fear. I walked up and saw a ghoul shambling towards a woman in a police uniform. She held a gun on the creature, but was having difficulties in shooting.

I decided to take matters into my own hands. I was getting bored, and something about this woman cried out to be left alone.

The ghoul exploded as my hand thrust through its chest, destroying its heart. I stood there, smiling slightly as the woman looked at me. I chuckled.

"Beautiful night, isn't it, Police Girl?"

She lowered the gun, a bemused look on her face.

"It's especially beautiful, of course, if you're a bloodsucker," I finished.

It was probably not a smart thing to do since she shot me at that point. I laughed as I regenerated my shoulder.

"You're not human, ah!" she turned and fled.

I arched an eyebrow as she ran. How amusing.

"Why?" I asked the air rhetorically.

"Would you have shot me if I was?"

I followed her, bursting in on her at the church just as the chipped vampire was drawing her neck to his mouth.

_Imbecile_, I thought. "I've had enough of you, God damn punk!"

He looked at me with an imperious glare. "And who are you?"

I guess I have to explain things to him. How tiresome.

"My name is Alucard; I am but a servant of the Hellsing Organization. I deal with garbage like you."

"Garbage like me, ha! Who do you think you're talking to? Have you lost your mind?"

I love taunting my enemies, it makes it fun.

"No. You're even less than garbage, you're just scum. And that ridiculous costume. You look like some sort of sad carnival freak. Just look at you wearing those priest robes. Don't you have any shame? I thought scum could at least feel shame."

"I think you should die now," he growled, and ghouls stood up in the pews of the church. The woman looked at one, murmuring the word 'Captain'.

I felt a pang of pity for her. I continued to stride forward.

"You are a fool who creates slaves to do his dirty work, a coward and an incompetent, incapable of doing anything on your own. You aren't worthy of the lowest pits of Hell!"

Oh, he was pissed. I let myself get shot up by the ghouls, letting him revel in a moment of success.

Hahahaha, Hahahahahahahahahaha!

"What?" he mumbled.

I sat up, regenerating as I did. "Shooting me isn't going to do you any good," I said, showing my fangs and hanging my tongue out, revealing what I was as I did. The 'priest' paled.

"You'll need more than guns to stop me," I was almost healed. He shouted for them to hurry up and kill me.

They were too slow. The Casull was out and firing.

"Stop it, what are you doing? Both of us are vampires!"

I felt disgust at that. "You act more like a cockroach than a proper vampire. Left on your own you would cover the world in filth," I reloaded my gun and cocked it, pointing it at him. "I can't stand your kind. You don't have the self respect to be a vampire, you undead maggot. You barely know what you are! As for me," I thought on Integra, that same strange warmth flooding into my gut.

"I have my own reasons for serving my human master. But that's not a story for trash like you."

As I steadied the pistol across my arm, I described what was going to happen. "This fires a 13mm explosive round. A silver cross from Lanchester Church was melted into the alloy for the bullets. Prepare yourself for an eternity in Hell."

He hauled the Police Girl in front of him, using her like a shield.

How interesting. He began to prattle on about how I should let him go, that we were superior beings and other such nonsense about a partnership.

"Police Girl," I said.

"Yes?"

He shouted for me to be quiet. I ignored him.

"I'm going to fire my gun now, and the bullet will rip through your lungs before it hits the maggot vampire's heart."

"Ah, but, wait a minute," the FREAK murmured.

"I know you don't want to die tonight," I said, having a brief flashback to that night when Integra released me.

"Do you want to come with me?"

She hesitated.

"I can't force you into this; the decision has to be made of your own free will." I steeled my face. "So make the choice!"

"Yes," she said, closing her eyes.

The priest paled. I smiled as I pulled the trigger. He dusted as they do, and I gathered the weak woman into my eyes. I've never seen anyone with eyes as large as hers. She truly did look like a frightened kitten. She stared at me weakly, mumbling my name.

"Remember that the choice was always yours, Police Girl."

I lifted her neck a little more, looking at her. I licked some blood from her chin.

"This is where you're supposed to close your eyes," I said. She kept them open.

What courage.

Oh, Integra was outraged at first, but as she came to know the woman, a type of a bond came about, almost like a big sister. It was her that got her to feed willingly, after a fashion. Between her and the incident with the reporter, I no longer had problems with my fledgling starving herself.

Oh, but what a problem she was at times! Always prattling on about her humanity, how she didn't want to be a monster, despite what she was. If she would have just shut up and listen to me, she would have realized months sooner that she wouldn't if she didn't wish to.

I suppose that was my one failing as a Sire. I never had patience for stupidity.

But she was stronger than I gave her credit for. There were a good number of times that she was the defining article that changed things from defeat to victory in the various battles we'd been in. I released her from the bond a few months ago, knowing that it was beginning to hamper her growth. She would be coming into her powers now, and she will be a strong and proud No-Life Queen when she matures fully.

Just as one befitting my blood should.

I just wish that she would do something about that omnipresent cheerfulness. It wears on you after a while, and Integra has mentioned how she had the most innocent eyes that she's ever seen on a vampire.

Ah, Draculina, what am I going to do with you?


	4. Thanatos: The Half Breed

Ah, James Hunter, literally my oldest friend here.

I first met him in Germany during the war. I remember the first thing he said to me.

"My God, but you are a pretentious son of a bitch."

I had just been introduced to him by the then teenaged Walter. I had looked him over and said that he would be mildly amusing to have about, but if he fought like any of the Dhampirs I knew, we'd be better off carving him up now.

He took exception to that for some reason. He tossed that line out and I just wanted to reach out and slap the smug expression from his blonde face.

Oh, he looks different now. Every generation he alters his appearance slightly, so the truth of what he is doesn't get out. He trusts few with his secrets and what he really looks like. For the purpose of this story I'll relate how he truly looks.

He stands roughly one and three quarter meters high, and has a body that is completely non-intimidating. He looks as though he weighs a mere sixty-seven kilograms but in actuality he weighs a full ninety-one of pure muscle. His hair is a rust colour that would make you think he would be incredibly freckled, but his skin is a light tan most of the time. His eyes are normally a piercing grey-blue unless he is pulling upon his powers, during which they start to shade towards transparent. They are the first things to change when he shifts into fight mode, as they cease to reflect any light whatsoever.

Dhampirs are the offspring of a human-vampire pairing. Most of the time, it's a Vampire father and a human mother, though there have been the opposite cases. Most of them live their lives without knowledge of what they are, living and dying as humans. Should they die at the hands of a supernatural creature, however, the vampiric side is awakened and they come into their powers. The only way to escape the curse is to hunt down their Sire and defeat them in combat, drinking the blood of the fallen vampire. They are obstinate, independent, and notoriously malicious in most cases.

This one, for some reason, gave me a sense that he was more than he appeared. But, true to my nature, I had to rile him up.

Plus, I just didn't like him at first. Something about his seeming pacifistic nature rubbed me the wrong way.

Well, needless to say I had my pistol out and was going to plug him a few good ones, and he had brought out his gun as well. We were both about to pull the triggers when Walter stepped between us, garrotte wires looping about our bodies and threatening to slice us apart.

It wouldn't have stopped either of us for more than a few minutes, but the fact that the Angel of Death found some reason to try and stop my fun made me stop long enough to listen to why he had asked the half-breed to help us.

Ah, could he fight! We were set upon by a battalion of ghouls and the first generation of what would later be called FREAKS shortly after we had settled into an uneasy truce. He tore through them with as much zeal as a full blood vampire. His face held the same cocksure grin that I knew was on my face in combat.

Unlike me, however, he seemed to always try and grant his enemies quick and painless deaths, whereas I enjoyed drawing it out if I could.

This, of course, brought about his nickname: Thanatos, the Greek god of gentle death. It fit him just as the fact that someone so seemingly innocent and angelic as Walter was capable of such destruction.

He transferred into Hellsing with us, and for five years served under the guise of a normal human, only letting his true nature show when it was just him, me, and Walter.

The three of us made quite a team when we worked together.

He transferred out to an American group in the late fifties, training as a recon pilot and later as a fighter ace in the Viet Nam and Persian Gulf wars. He roamed across America, and I lost track of him for a good fifty years.

And now he's back with Hellsing, and the Police Girl is quite taken with him. I attribute most of her new backbone to him, his ability to draw people out and make them feel comfortable about themselves. I know that it has to have something to do with his time in the Orient. He spent two six year terms there, just trying to find peace: once after he had hunted down and killed four people and fifteen guards in an attempt at revenge against the perpetrators of the Inquisition and again shortly before the First World War for reasons that he still won't confide in me.

He is a philosopher, having deep thoughts about many topics and is an incredible conversationalist. He's only six hundred years old, but he has this thirst for knowledge that makes him my equal for experiences, and he might even surpass me in some since he was actually a victim of the Inquisition.

And we argue from time to time about which is the better wine, Merlot or Cabernet Sauvignon.

He keeps accusing me of being biased because I owned a good portion of the Sauvignon fields once.

Bigot.

I enjoy having him about again, mainly because he has the same sense of honour and lust for combat that I have, so we understand each other quite well. And his effect on Draculina, his bolstering of her confidence and allowing her to feel comfortable in her new life. However, he has a sense of humour that grates on me at times.

He, like all of his kind and many of mine, can mask his voice and physical appearance. He delights in pulling pranks on me; sounding or appearing as Abraham Van Helsing is his favourite trick.

Damn him.

If I had known about this back in the Forties I would have called him Loki instead. I know he probably does it for the same reasons that I taunt Draculina, but it is annoying to be pestered all of the time and not be able to do anything about it.

I wonder if there is a lesson in that for me.

If there is, he's going to be sorely disappointed.

I'd rather learn to deal with his pranks than give up my sparring sessions with Seras.

Still though, damn him.

He's got Integra doing it too, now that she has similar abilities.


	5. Integra: Master of Monster

My Lady, Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing.

For anyone that knows me, they know her. She is the head of the Hellsing family, and a Knight of the Round Table, the only woman and one of the youngest people to hold that prestigious position.

It ruffles the feathers of the older Knights. It's so delightful.

I've already related how we met, so I won't go back into that. We've had so many adventures that border on seeming fictitious. For example, the night Incognito arrived on the Island, I went to meet him.

"What are you doing here? Has your hunger driven you to this?"

I waited a moment for an answer, but none came. "I don't know your name yet, but I think we have a lot in common. You've also put aside your pride and learned to bow before human masters." I snorted. "How utterly pitiful."

Nothing. I snorted again.

"I do hope you have some power to back up your enormous pretention."

He walked out, a ghastly mismatch of proportions. His frame was covered in a long trenchcoat, rather like mine only it was the same drab as his flesh. He looked at me and said in a slow drawl "You're Alucard."

I smirked. He was a quick one, alright. "What shall I call you?"

"I'm Incognito."

How appropriate. "So you're nobody then? I can live with that; my name's a bit of an enigma as well." Well, an anagram would have been more accurate, but why mince details? I wanted to fight.

"We're both originals who are bound by humans. Let's take our time have some fun," I said, pulling out the Jackal pistol that Walter had made recently and pulling the slide back.

"What are you waiting for, Incognito? Don't you carry any human weapons?"

He raised a hand and then flung it to the side, a large gun flying from his sleeve, several chains attached to it. I smiled as I recognized the gun.

"An Armscore 40mm MGL, how quaint. I wonder what kind of projectiles it fires. Explosive rounds?"

He pulled a shell from the large ammunition drum just forward from the grip, squeezing it. Long twisted bits of metal clinked on the floor. How wonderful.

"Sorcery from the Dark Continent? Perfect, let's begin." I raised my pistol.

He gave a slight smile, tattoos appearing on his face and he just looked at me. "The two of us, we're different."

I looked at him. "What did you say?"

"The difference between us," he grinned sadistically.

I suppose that if we weren't enemies we might have been friends. He seemed to enjoy the same things I did: death, destruction, insanity. However, right now, I wondered in what way we were different.

"Is you don't have a master anymore." He looked like a cat that had caught the canary.

At that moment, I felt the sharp call from a pained Integra. She was wounded, in pain, in danger.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" I cried as I fired my pistol. His return shots ripped into me.

"I'm going to fill your flesh with my Jackal's bullets," I said, just before I phased out to save my master.

I set into the house, dampening the magic of a weak vampire that had entered the manor. I entered my Master's office, seeing the blonde woman in a green dress by Integra. An Irish Vampire of sorts, a distant cousin of the Banshees. She had probably come from the castle they had raided earlier that day. What was it called again? Bobhan?

"I've had enough of your mockery, Bobhanshee!"

She turned, hissed like a cat, and leapt over the desk, racing towards me. She leapt into the air, coming down towards me.

Idiot.

I raised the Jackal and fired. She landed on the floor as no more than a pile of dust.

Walter and Seras raced in at that point, and Integra snatched up the letter opener that had been used to stab her in the gut. She held it to her neck.

Marvellous.

The Police Girl made to help her, but the firm command stopped her dead.

"Stay back!" Integra said as she looked off at nothing. She shoved the dagger through her neck.

Draculina shouted as my Master fell to the floor, her blood spilling from her body, a weak comment escaping her lips as she passed out.

"There is impure blood in my veins."

I stood there later, outside the tent inside which the doctors worked furiously to save her life. The Police Girl mumbled an apology to me, something about if she had gotten there faster.

"You must pay close attention. Watch how Integra fares in battle."

She looked at me in surprise, echoing the word battle.

"Integra tore through her own throat. She shed her own blood and chose to fight for her life. Giving in is what kills people. When you refuse to surrender with all your heart, only then do you transcend your humanity. Even in the face of death, never give up. That is the strength of our Master."

She looked at me, then at the unconscious Integra. I could tell she had a question, but she chose to walk away, the question unanswered.

I do wish she had gotten over that intimidation sooner than she did.

While Integra was unconscious, I went and forced her brain to keep functioning, bringing the memories of our meeting out, replaying them.

When we reached the part where she leaned across my arm to fire, she began to regain strength. _I was such a child back then, _she thought at me.

I smiled. _You will always be that same little girl to me, _I returned.

There was a sense of something that could have been interpreted as thank you.

Later that evening, we stood on the balcony that overlooked the gardens. She was still weak, and so was confined to a wheelchair and had a blanket wrapped about her body to ward off the chill.

"Do you think that this was a deliberate attack just to get rid of my leadership?" she asked as we gazed at the stars and moon.

"No, not entirely."

She looked at me, then back out at the lawn. She knew me well enough that I would continue in time.

"Master!"

I heard the Police Girl behind me, just at the door. I was about to welcome her to join us since Integra had become like a sister to her when she started to walk away again.

Again, damn that timidness.

"The Police Girl seems intimidated by you," I said to Integra.

She snickered. "I believe it has something to do with the way I got her to feed."

I looked at her. "You were responsible for her change of heart?"

She smiled. "I went down and talked to her after I heard from Walter that she hadn't been feeding. I confronted her and pricked my finger in front of her. I ordered her to lick the wound. When she hesitated, I asked her why it was she couldn't follow orders from a superior officer, insinuating that she was insubordinate. I don't think she expected it, and she sure as Hell wasn't happy about it, but she did it."

"Yet she won't listen to me when I order her to do it."

She smiled at me. "You are a bit more demanding with a hint of pain. I used hints of discipline that would have nothing to do with her person. She still sees herself as an officer, one that follows orders. I threatened her reputation."

I looked at Integra.

"You are devious, my Master."

"Is that a compliment?"

I smiled as I phased out of the room.

"I'll let you know later."

Ah, Integra. Something about her is just so appealing, yet at the time I refused to indulge in more than a courting in my own subtle way, since she was mortal and my Master as the seals had demanded. So many things have changed since then.

So many things.

She is stretched out on the couch across from me now, dozing in the late afternoon hours. It's been a year or so since the assault and injury that caused me to donate so much of my blood to keep her alive. I didn't know until after we had both recovered that it had affected her genetic chemistry, adding several of the markers that Vampires held.

She picked up from my blood a goodly number of abilities, including enhanced speed and strength. She is so similar to Thanatos now, a Dhampir for lack of a better term since she didn't die. He has been helping her learn control her powers as I have been teaching the Police Girl. Her familiar appeared the other day, a great tiger of black and gold. She has great potential.

But the connection we have is different than the now shared immortality. It was started when I drank her blood that night in the dungeon, and was nurtured over the decade that I served her. I have never met a woman so iron-willed or so capable in combat.

She was, in many ways, a match for me intellectually. She was fearless when it came to me, save the prospect of loosing me.

Now if there was just some way to get her to stop using those abilities that she has now to torment me in a sort of twisted revenge for the years I did it to her.

It's rather annoying.


	6. Hellsing: The Organization

It isn't really easy to be part of an organization dedicated to the eradication of your kind.

It's actually rather amusing.

I have been a servant of the Hellsing family for four generations now: Abraham Van Helsing, who captured me and to whom I swore service; Jacob Hellsing, whom released me as a weapon in the Second World War; Lionel Hellsing, who viewed me as little more than a pet that would bite the hand that fed it; and Integra Hellsing, who is the last of the line at the moment, and possibly for a good while, seeing as how she has neither heir nor consort.

Unless you want to count me.

I suppose that the hardest part is keeping a straight face as the humans try to take out my kind with silver bullets and other such weapons. True, blessed silver and other such items can be trouble, even unto our destruction, but it would require a quantity larger than they carry to take on a true Undead. After all, it took both a rather large silver pike and the morning light to finish Incognito, the brunt of my powers to finish Rip Van Winkle, and the subtle nuances of the battle between sire and offspring to finish Erik Valar.

And then the Police Girl siding with them more than not. It's hilarious at times, but out of respect I limit my amusement to a few chuckles and a constant smirk. James would doubtless laugh with me if he understood the full import of the situation.

And yet there are those that have managed to gain my respect out of the human corps. Peter Fargason, merely for surviving as much as he did on his wits and his cunning. Richard Pickman, who was the longest lasting member of the Tower of London attack. I remember that night so well.

Integra was in the lower chambers of the Manor, preparing for the Maundy ceremony that we believed was going to take place at the Hellsing house when I felt the stirrings of Incognito and the Police Girls urgency. I smiled.

Some fun was in the offing.

I interrupted Integra's prayer by casting the image of the sigils that bound my will to that of the Hellsing Master beneath her feet. As she looked up, calling my name, I merely chuckled.

"Your Queen will not be coming."

She demanded an explanation.

"You'll going to have to keep yourself out of trouble for a while. I'm going out to have a bit of fun."

I apparated to the Tower, shooting a FREAK off the back of Pickman as he shot both his pistol and his MP5 at the two approaching him from the front. He looked over, calling out. "Alucard?"

I stood there, the Jackal still levelled at the spot where I had fired. "Sorry I'm running a bit late."

"I abhor your tardiness."

He shot the man that had been with him for most of the battle. "After loosing so many men, I'd better be victorious," he said, a toothy grin on his face.

He would have made a good vampire.

"Spoken like a true soldier of Hellsing," I said, joining him on the ground.

Oh, what a battle we had. I would walk into a room and clear it of the FREAKS and he would lob a grenade in behind me, the explosion destroying the bodies and finishing anything that might have escaped my notice. I walked out of the fire and smoke of one such explosion and heard him whistle at my appearance, jacket billowing in the wind, hat low over my face.

The Police Girl showed up soon thereafter, fighting her way into the Tower. I reached out and touched her mind.

"Enjoy it, Police Girl. Revel in the massacre." I pointed my pistols to either side, arms crossed and fired, taking out two FREAKS to either side of me.

"What does not kill you makes you strong."

I continued along, partaking in the largest Search and Destroy mission I had seen since the War. It was fun, but far too simple. I ached for the confrontation with Incognito.

I shot behind me, taking out another of the FREAKS. I heard a voice over the report of my Jackal.

"Alucard,"

I turned; Pickman was fetched up against a low fence, hands over his middle. I looked at him.

"There's a bullet in your stomach," I said.

"Please," he said.

I stepped forward. No one had ever asked me please before.

At least, not being preceded or followed by no. I usually heard it as 'No, please no."

I was intrigued.

"I want to be human," he struggled to get out. "For Hellsing." He gasped in pain. "Let me," he said.

He didn't need to finish. I smiled as I raised the Jackal and fired the last shot from the magazine I was on.

After I laid him in a comfortable position and placed my hat over his face, I ejected the spent clip and slammed my last one in place, calling out.

"Incognito! How much longer must I play with your pathetic golems?"

Ah, the battle that followed was one I've not had in an age. But that is another tale for another time.

I have to admit, that there is much that I enjoy about working with this group. I get blood twice nightly, and free reign to hunt down the mockeries that have been made by humans, and I have for the first time someone that is worthy of my servitude and that has awoken a part of me I thought long dead.

Personally, I couldn't have it better.

I take that back.

Fresh blood would be better than the cold pre-packaged plasma. It's like the difference between fifty year old Scotch and cough syrup. There's alcohol in both, but you know which tastes better.

Ah, Integra is calling. There's been some sort of incursion in Southampton. Time for me to go and have a bit of fun. Seems that an old friend has decided to make an appearance on the Island.

How I enjoy this job.


	7. Anderson: Iscariot Dog

How does one describe somebody that you find both amusing and a challenge?

Around two and a quarter meters, maybe seventy kilos, dirty blonde, lanky, and extremely Scottish, that's how.

Paladin Alexander Anderson, the Vatican's Special Section XIII ace in the hole, The Iscariot Organization's answer to me. For all the good it does them.

I remember the night I met him. The Police Girl had been dispatched with a group of Hellsing regulars to a hospital to dispose of a FREAK that had risen again, killing London police officers.

I was wandering about the manor, looking for some trouble to stir up, since Integra hadn't deemed my actions in the realm of the needed. So she had no one to blame but herself for anything I caused.

Walter came into my field of vision while I stopped to gaze on a portrait of Lionel on the wall that contained such portraits of all the Masters of Hellsing through the decades. I could name the vices and virtues of each of them. I had known each of them, just I now know Integra. Without turning to him, I greeted him.

"What do you want, Walter?"

He shut his eyes somewhat and smiled. "Sir Integra wished me to inform you that she is sending you into the hospital as well, to back up the P-7 unit."

I eyed the aging human, my hair falling across my face as I did. "I thought that this mission didn't warrant my going, Walter. Why has she had this gracious change of heart?"

"She didn't see fit to tell me, Lord Alucard," he said, a note of annoyance in his voice. "But she made it clear that you are to proceed there immediately."

I smiled. "Perfect."

Arriving at the hospital, I sat on the cold stone steps leading up to the building and started to drink from the blood pack that had been left by my coffin earlier that night. I had taken to tucking them in my coat so that they would warm up slightly. I reached out and touched the Police Girl's mind, not deeming it worth my time to actually step inside just yet.

_When you fire, don't forget to aim for the head and chest, Police Girl._

_Master?_

I finished the blood pack, crushing it in my hand. _Those people didn't choose to become ghouls, and once they've been turned, the only option left to them is a quick death. Don't hesitate!_

_Yes sir, Master!_

I sighed. It would probably be over by the time I stepped inside. Oh, how I was wrong.

I phased in after a flash of shock and pain from Draculina, seeing a slight figure wrapped in a sheet facing off against a robed man that nearly towered over me. The robed man had a sword in his hand; one shaped more like a bayonet than a proper sword. The Police Girl was on her hands and knees behind him, another of those blades through her throat, and Gareth lay dead beside her.

I never liked him, for some reason. Something about his blood just irked me. But that didn't mean that I would let some Catholic bastard kill him on my watch.

Hmm...he smells familiar. Where have I met him before? Ah well, first things first...

I thrust my hand through the FREAKS chest, just as I had that ghoul in Cheddar. He dissipated with a scream, and I gazed at the tall man across from me. He looked at me with undisguised hatred.

Not unexpected, of course. I get it a lot, especially from hunters that I steal the kill from. Time for formalities and greetings, however.

"You shouldn't have come here, Catholic," I said.

"Master," wheezed the Police Girl.

"Don't try to talk, Police Girl, your body is weak." Sigh, she was always getting into some sort of trouble at this stage of her unlife, like a child that wanted to stick a fork in a power socket.

He sneered at me, bayonets held ready. "You must be the Hellsing family's pet abomination," he said.

I cocked an eyebrow, understanding. "You're from Iscariot, I see,"

"Iscariot was ridding the world of sacrilegious monsters like you centuries before the Hellsing family ever existed!" he shouted, leaping backwards and crossing his blades. Pages floated out from beneath his robes and small knives flew out, pinning the pages to the walls. I felt the gut wrenching lurch of the spell as it enacted itself, hearing Seras grunt as well.

Holy Writs.

That son of a bitch.

As I stood, I growled. "You defile this place," I spat at him.

"I purify this house, so that the monster can't use his cheap black magic." He crossed his blades again. "Our mission is to punish anyheretic that would deny the work of God. We'lldestroyyour unholy corpse and salt the Earth with your dust, Amen."

Heh, trust an Iscariot pig to think that he was better than anyone else, let alone my equal. Time to shatter that notion. I pulled the Casull from my jacket and pointed it at him. "Somebody better put you in your place, human!"

We stood like that for several moments, just facing off against each other. Then, with a growl, he rushed forward, blades flying at me.

He was fast, to be sure, but not as fast as I was. It was dreadfully easy to avoid the strikes, so easy that I barely moved at all, making a mockery of his attacks. I tired of the game after a few strikes and held still, placing the barrel of my pistol against his forehead as the tip of a blade pierced me, narrowly missing my heart. It stung, as silver would.

At least he was well informed, if not the brightest bulb in the box.

"You've put a blessing on that blade," I said.

He grinned maniacally, arm tensing to rip the blade about to widen the wound.

I tightened my finger on the trigger. "This bullet was made for a vampire, but it'll do to send you to Hell, Father!"

He flew backwards with a grunt.

Sigh.

The good parts were always over so quickly.

I turned around, pulling the blade from my chest, grunting as the blade slid out. "Weird little toy of his actually hurt. Those kinds of weapons can be dangerous, even for us, Police Girl." I held out my hand to help her up, but her eyes flew open in fear. I turned in time to be stabbed by eleven more blades. I staggered backwards as the priest stood, a smoking hole in his head.

Holy shit...

"A regenerator, a human regenerator?"

He cried out in a voice that rang of insanity. "I take an eye for an eye! This technology, God's divine gift, gives me tools to fight inhuman monsters like you!"

I stood there, angered and shocked like I haven't been in years. How dare he speak of inhuman beings. "You're less than inhuman. A pitiful defect, a failed science experiment. Sending you back to your Maker would be an act of mercy!"

I pointed my pistol at him again, ignoring the bite and burn of the blessed blades in my body. "Your regeneration powers are impressive, but I bet if I put enough bullets into your skull you'd stay down for good. So let's cut to the chase, start begging!"

He sneered. "Empty threats of a cowardly vampire that hides behind the weapons of man."

He didn't back down. Nor did I.

It was about time I met someone that was willing to go toe to toe that might actually give me a run for my money. I know I'd still win, but I love cutting loose from time to time. I might actually release the Control Arts Restrictions for this fight, just for fun.

We were about to go at it again when a voice came up the corridor.

"That's enough, Paladin Alexander Anderson!"

We both turned and saw Integra standing at the head of the hallway, the sawed off Remington in her hands and the sabre sitting on her hip.

Just when things were getting to be fun. Trust her to interfere with my fun. First the punch at the party, then the Police Girl, now the priest. Couldn't she leave me be for once?

"You don't have the right to command one who is a true servant of God," he said.

Huh, he must have thought the same thing I did. Then a second thought tagged my brain. How dare he disobey my master? It was all I could do to keep from tearing into him again.

They argued for a moment or two, and then he stalked off, clearly unhappy.

Hmm...

I can't get it out of my head that I've seen him somewhere before. Sometime long ago.

Hmm...He's from Italy, the Vatican...

A memory nibbles at the edge of my mind, a vision of me on a street, swathed in a heavy coat, but it's still indistinct.

Integra gave me a lecture about vampires that got pummeled by regenerators.

Hhmmppph, pummeled indeed. If it wasn't for the mental thought of worry I felt I would have been upset.

_I'll need a bigger gun for next time, _I remember thinking as I left after a failed attempt at offering the Police Girl my blood.

A challenge and a workout are only good for so much, after all. Although, he and I have crossed paths several times and even worked together on occaision. He and his master Enrico Maxwell figure prominently in several key arcs of my time in Hellsing.

Hmm...Berlin, 1943...

It bothers me that I can't place that dog's face. After all, you'd think that I'd remember someone like that. I'll speak more on him and his boss Maxwell later, as I've had frequent encounters with them.

I'll think about it later. Right now I have a reporter to deal with.

She smells delicious. Type AB for sure. Not a virgin, but still sweet and fresh.

Ah, this will be fun.


	8. Carpathia Van Helsing und die Sicherung

Ah, the mountains of Carpathia, where I made my home for so long.

It was actually a very nice place, sheltered against so many things, so many forces. I had hordes of wolves acting as a guard in the forests surrounding my castle, and gypsies acted as my servants in the daylight, when my powers were weakened. I had a nice setup, a very Gothic castle, three brides, and slaves to my will. What more could I want?

A challenge.

I suppose that is why I left the land where I reigned supreme. The villagers no longer gave me a challenge after the Belmont's had left. Without Trevor's annoying lineage to give me a chase every few decades, life quickly became dull.

Oh, I turned a few gypsies into Midians, the most notable of all being Rip Van Winkle.

My but she was a feisty one. I had invited several of her band into my castle late one night, ostensibly for a welcome feast.

They didn't know it was my hunger that would be sated.

She took the longest to awake after the turning, and always slept longer than any other fledgling I've turned before or since. I took to calling her by the name of the Dutch man who slept away a hundred years. She was the perfect vampire! Bloodlust, power, sensuality, it all ran in her veins as it did in my own. But she never developed into her full powers, her bloodlust drowned out learning control. She lusted for the hunt, the kill, the sensation of the fear mingling in the blood of her victim. If there was anything I couldn't stand, it was the killing and feeding on someone for the sport. It was a waste, and if allowed to continue unchecked it would raise the villagers against us, something I had worked for centuries to avoid.

Sadly, it was Rip that brought Trevor Belmont after me, forcing me to expose myself as my 'son', setting the stage for what would be a long line of façades, the mental projections of what came to be called 'Castlevania' and the whole 'Every hundred years Dracula rises and a Belmont must face him' bullshit. But I understand why it happened; Rip and I did bear a chilling resemblance, save that her pale flesh was spotted all over with freckles whereas mine was smooth as cream. After faking my death for the second time with his descendant Simon, I finally confronted Rip, railing at her.

"You must not kill for the sport, only to sate your thirst! Remember, you are a child of Dracula! Behave with the dignity that your blood contains! This is three times now that some fool Belmont has come after me, and I will not have a fourth time. You _will _reign in your thirst, or you will be locked away for a century!"

She obeyed, but after thirty years passed, she was at it again, bringing Richter Belmont after my ass. I finally cut loose, sealing Richter away for a time after he 'killed' me. I went on as 'Alucard' for the last time and confronted Rip, sealing her away in a chamber in the lowermost reaches of my castle, and then sealing that portion with masonry. I would not have her destroy what was my line, my pride.

Vampires of my blood should have control and discretion above all else, dammit!

Ah, I must admit that I forgot about her, in the press of centuries and the subsequent capture by Van Helsing and the others. That was probably a mistake that I should not have made.

However, the fear that she held for me served me well when I faced her in Brazil, sensing her cowering in fear, screaming 'He's here! He's here!' at the top of her terrified lungs, collapsing into a shivering whelp, muttering 'Samiel' while I destroyed her comrades and approached her.

Pathetic, the Hunter was now the Hunted. Had I known this, how weak she would have been, I would not have turned her. But she was sixteen at the time, and any teenage girl will cling to any hope of life offered to her when the alternative is death.

But that is not the sole purpose of this story, as I also have to clarify the differences between what happened in Bram Stoker's _Dracula _and reality. They did indeed stake me as they had Lucy and my brides, but being a No-Life King, I recovered quickly and wandered the world, seeing the chaos wrought in my name and the name of various other demons and devils.

And then I made the piss poor mistake of being on hand when the Children of Judas killed Van Helsing's wife.

I swear that sometimes I'm such an idiot that I shouldn't have been sired myself. Was I destined to be hunted by that man for all eternity? Why wouldn't he succumb to age like other humans did?

I'm glad now that he hadn't, for reasons that you've probably read by now.

So he caught up with me in Transylvania, a destined place for our showdowns and we faced each other in a battle of wits, which neither of us gained the upper hand. After several days, I remarked to him about his fortitude, his tenacity.

"For a human, you are remarkably strong of will, HerrVanHelsing. What courage in the face of danger, of certain death!"

It was one of the few times taunting my enemy failed, as did both his attacks and mine. We finally sat back, and I asked him why he hunted me with such determination.

His response was chilling in its simplicity.

"Because your kind deserves to roast in the depths of Hell, where they belong, the bloodthirsty demons."

"Ah, dummer Doktor!" I cried. "Is your hatred so all-consuming that you fail to realize that I did not set upon London as you believe I had? Nicht alles ist nien während es scheint!"

He looked upon me with confusion, and I lead him into the vast libraries of my castle, the volumes that had been collected on my kind throughout the millennia by the masters of the occult, Master Vampires and others. Listing of our powers, our weaknesses. He shuddered at the sight of the vast repository of knowledge, this mountain of wealth as he viewed it. I knelt before him, and offered him a trade: my service to him and his line for the time it would take to rid the world of those that fouled the name of vampire. I would gladly clean the filth that made me out to be more of a monster than I was.

I wanted to be hated and hunted for shit I did, not stuff people thought I had.

My reputation is very important to me. I have dignity that I have worked hard to culture.

The binding was rather simple. I would limit my power releases, my mind would be linked to the master of the Helsing line, but they would not control me. I was a force of nature, as uncontrollable as a thunderstorm.

I was truly saddened when Abraham died, as I had when Lionel had. He turned the mastery of his family, now called Hellsing, to his son Jacob. I will never forget his last words, words spoken to his son, words that embodied Hellsing for the time it would exist.

"Beim Gehen hinunter den Weg, der weniger getreten wird, shy nicht vom Verwenden der Waffen, die Ihnen gegeben werden."

How ironic that his Great-Granddaughter was now my consort, and that she was a member of the Undead.

However loosely she might be included, of course.

* * *

A/N: Van Helsing's last words are, for those of you that don't speak German, 'When walking down the path less trodden, do not shy from using the weapons given to you.' Of course, my German is a bit rusty, so if I'm off, corrections are welcome to any of the German in this chapter. 


	9. FREAKS: Pride

I have to take a moment and explain my stance on the FREAKS.

They are humans that have had a chip implanted in their necks to trigger the changes into vampires, basically instant vampires.

Take one human, add one sillicon chip, mix by hand for two minutes, and bake for an hour.

They are an affront to everything I stand for. They have no idea of what it takes to be a Lord of the Night, a true No-Life King. I have, for close to fifteen hundred years now, been walking this earth and never have I seen such pitiful excuses for unlife before. They have no control over their abilities, no sense of discretion.

I remember one night in Walachia, gazing at the countryside and plotting a foray into a small village for a snack. I spent three nights planning that trek, which houses I would stalk by, which paths I would take to get there, and so on.

I know, you're wondering why I don't just phase out there, or mist to my target.

Why do that when it's such a lovely night out? That moon, such a lovely moon.

I don't know why it draws me so. It has a pull on me; so many events of my life have been centered about the moon, especially the full moon. My turning, the siring of many of my children, the turning of my brides, all took place under the full moon.

I'm a romantic, I suppose.

I have taken weeks to plan attacks, years to plan moves to new locales, decades to set up accounts and safe houses. I would cull the villagers that I would drink from, avoiding those that had tainted or unripe blood, drinking only from the 'vintage' vessels, leaving others to ripen and age.

FREAKS drink from whomever they come across, caring nothing for style, finesse, or subtlety, let alone discerning tastes.

They sully the name vampire, and as soon as the last of them is wiped out, I can be released to be what I am.

A true Vampire, a Lord of the Night.

And not have to worry about vermin tainting the food stock, attacking at will and overfeeding.

Hmmpphh.

They just have no pride in their work.


	10. Lust for Life

A/N: This is more or less a bit or random thought, no true story advancement. I was hitting a block on what to put in and this song came on. I will get something better for the next chapter, I promise...

* * *

_Strange this sensation in my mind  
Creature I will become one  
On my way, there's no sun  
But I have to carry on  
Look my force is more powerful  
Piece by piece vampire rules  
On my way, in my world  
I realize past life has gone.  
Future's changing again  
Impulses are driving me away in hell  
No tears in my eyes  
There's no beat in my heart  
I just feel the pain  
Growin' into my brain  
I'm still the son,  
The abandoned child of eternity  
_

_I don't belong to the sky  
I just follow my way  
Ready to roam in the night  
I hear this symphony  
Running after the devil  
The prince of immortals  
Feared by everyone  
I am strong as hard as metal  
Innocent blood I must take on  
The crime is in my soul  
Lust for life  
I don't belong to the sky  
I just follow my way  
Ready to roam in the night  
I hear this symphony  
Running after the devil  
The prince of immortals  
Freak to every one  
I am proud as strong as metal  
Creature of flesh I must devour  
To be free  
Lust for life_

_  
Every night the realm is mine  
Beware until the sunrise in the sky  
In the night I stay here to bite  
Take care of you, blood thirsty I am one  
Eternally.  
And in my dream  
All victims forgive me  
They watch me in the sky  
They light my way from the other side.  
_

_No tears in my eyes  
There's no beat in my heart  
I just feel the pain  
Growin' into my brain  
I'm still the son.  
The abandoned child of eternity  
_

_I don't belong to the sky  
I just follow my way  
Ready to roam in the night  
I hear this symphony  
Running after the devil  
The prince of immortals  
Feared by everyone  
I am strong as hard as metal  
Innocent blood I must take on  
The crime is in my soul  
Lust for life  
I don't belong to the sky  
I just follow my way  
Ready to roam in the night  
I hear this symphony  
Running after the devil  
The prince of immortals  
Freak to every one  
I am proud as strong as metal  
Creature of flesh I must devour  
To be free  
Lust for life_

Ah, what a delightful song. I'm so glad that I found a group that would play it. It took a while to scour the continent for a fledgling metal group called Heavenly. They took the song and put it to music. And now they are a large group, touring all of Europe. Too bad Integra isn't much of a metal fan.

The Police Girl, however…

It's rather funny that she actually goes to punk and hard rock concerts. She has the whole gothic look for some shows.

It's actually rather fitting, though I never really saw her as an Emo girl.

Maybe I should go to one. It would be interesting to see what kind of looks I would get.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...


	11. Toys of the Trade: 454 Casull

A/N: Ok, good idea.

* * *

Ah, this is a magnificent weapon, a true piece of art. 

It's around 29 centimeters long, and holds nine rounds of modified .454 Casull rounds, capable of turing anything into a pile of debris.

It's simply beautiful.

I pull the slide back and aim at the target a kilometer ahead, pulling the trigger back and smiling as the target explodes into fragments of wood and litters the area with it's splinters.

I turn to Walter and smile. "This is wonderful, just delightful."

The man bows slightly, his hair slicked into a ponytail, his face aged from when I had last seen it.

"I'm pleased you like it, Lord Alucard."

I tuck the weapon under my jacket, turning at the sound of a sixteen year old girl's sniffle. Integra is there, wiping her nose with a handkerchief.

"Master, you should not be outside in your condition."

She looked at me with bleary eyes and frowned. "Piffle," she said. "This mere cold will not keep me from my duties. And seeing that you are kept under control when given this dubious new toy is something that I take seriously."

I sighed, pushing the glasses back up my nose, obscuring my eyes from view. My hair was still long and wild, blowing in the wind. I had taken to wearing a long trench coat swathed over my frame and buckled to the neck. A large floppy hat gave just enough shade to keep the sun off my shoulders and face when I stepped outside. The sun is a great pain to many of my kind, but after all the experiments that the Hellsings have performed on me, it's merely an annoyance, and that's something that will be passed on to any fledglings I might create in the future.

"Master, I assure you, that this fine weapon will be used only for those despicable creatures that mock my kind. To use it on anything else would be an insult to it and its maker."

Walter smiled and nodded his head in thanks.

Integra harrumphed and turned, going back into the manor.

I grinned. And there was a mission tonight. I get to test out this wonderful new toy of mine on the actual enemy.

How wonderful.

Oh, it was mediocre, in retrospect, but using the Joshua was a delight. It kicked in my hands like an animal trying to get away, the rounds ripping into ghouls and FREAKS like a hot knife through butter, turning them to dust with little resistance, something that the smaller weapons of the human members couldn't do.

I remember shooting through a wall to take out one FREAK that thought concrete would help him any.

Idiot. They don't deserve the respect that they so clearly want from my kind.

I have to say, this is the finest weapon I've ever held.

There isn't anything that will stand up to it.


	12. Visions

Patience.

It's the life blood of any hunter, the ability to wait and outwit your prey. To sit still and allow it to come to you, to see who will be the victor.

And for my exploits, I usually win.

The night was chill, a light crust of snow on the ground and clouds masking the sky, keeping me from seeing the moon. I could smell the blood, laced with fear, with desperation. It was taunting me, tantalizing me.

She was close. So close I could almost feel her neck in my mouth, taste her blood. There was something about her blood, something that made me almost throw caution to the wind and unleash all my power on her.

But I hadn't lived for as long as I had by not planning, by being careless. I continued to trot forward in the form of a grey-black furred wolf, nose low to the ground, ears swiveling about, trying to narrow down her location.

_There, just there. Blood. _

I don't know what it is, but whenever I take on the form of an animal, my thoughts become more primal, except when I take on Cromwell's form. Then it's just me in a different shape, with Cromwell's mind going dormant for the time I need his form.

But my instincts were screaming at me to chase down whatever it was that was bleeding, teasing me with its sweetness. I picked up my pace a bit and saw a few spots on the ground, splotches of red against the red.

_Blood. There, there. _

I begin to run, throwing a howl out into the wind, having it answered by the many wolves that guard my realm. I crest a hill, and there she is, limping along as fast as she can.

I give out another howl and delight as she spins, seeing me and trying to move faster. _This _is what I live for. The thrill of the hunt, the kill.

The hunt was short. They had been getting that way since the Belmont's had left. Nothing was challenging anymore. Nothing perked my interest. Even taunting Rip in her tiny cell had lost its thrill. I hadn't been down in a decade.

I shifted back to my human form and strode forward, grabbing her and spinning her to face me, my fanged visage twisted in a smile of triumph. I brush my hands across my cloak front, wiping snow from the lapels.

"You were a bit of a chase, but it was worth it." I leer at her as she stands straight, the only signs of her fear being the tremble in her lips and the scent in her blood. I lean forward and run my tongue against her flesh, feeling her shudder at the contact. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, making it obvious that I'm savoring the smell of her fear. I open my eyes again and look at her just in time to have a physic blast hit me full in the mind.

The pain was intense, but brief. She had power but poor control, something typical of witches that woke in their power late in life. It was a simple matter to block her from my mind and insert images of what I could do to her, some of which were tempting to do.

Such a shame she wasn't a virgin.

It was a delightful meal, but later that night I started hearing a voice rail at me in the dark.

_Murderer. Killer. Monster. Liar, scum._

Most of them I didn't mind, since they were accurate. But scum, that bothered me to the point that I began to wish that the other voices would cease. As time went on, the voice grew louder, annoying to the point of my casting my brides from my chambers. I couldn't stand it anymore. I could feel my sanity cracking at the edges, my dignity crumbling at the telepathic assault.

I traced the event back to the woman I hunted down, the witch. Had she placed a curse on me?

Voices from the grave. Some curse. Why couldn't it have been something like locusts or flames from heaven, something _fun, _something _challenging? _

Such is my luck, to surpass anything on this Earth to the point that neither my enemies nor myself attempt to do anything anymore. We both know who would win. I had a goodly portion of Transylvania under my direct control. I began questing about for a new place to set up shop, and my eyes lighted upon the tiny island of England.

Perfect.

The voices continued to get worse, until I would snap at thin air, frightening a servant or causing one of my brides to cringe in fear. Eventually the elder of the gypsy caravan that stayed frequently came to me, bowing in respect.

"Scuzat'i-mã, Tatã. If I may present some advice?"

I smiled, a rarity for me even then. "Bunã seara, Elder. What wisdom do you bring me?"

She bowed her head again, deferring my greeting as befitted a proper servant. "Far be it for me to presume that I know more than you, but I do believe I can assist you in this curse that plagues your waking moments."

I eyed her, letting her know that it was within my power to turn her into a snack there and then if she displeased me in the least. "Go on," I growl.

She brought her hands together. "I have used similar curses in the past. It causes the conscience of the one cursed to berate the mind on their past deeds. It continues until the victim goes mad or kills himself."

Interesting. So I was supposed to go mad with my past deeds? How laughable.

"And how does one rid himself from these pestering voices?" I asked.

"I will have to mix a tonic. However, there is a problem, Lord."

"A problem?"

She looked me in the eye. "It must be taken by a human and then the human must be drained."

I smirk. "I see no problem as yet."

"The tonic contains Orpheus, Liege."

Orpheus. The vampire's narcotic. Drinking from a human that had been dosed with Orpheus was the ultimate high in some circles. I, on the other hand, detested anything that defiled the blood.

"Is it needed?"

"Sadly, my Lord. It is integral to the tonic since it helps your mind reach the Astral plane, where the voices emanate from. However, the amount is only enough for you to reach that point. You must direct your view and find the spirits that taunt you."

I dismissed her and went to consider my options. It wasn't a difficult choice, just one that required deliberation. As I have said before, patience is the heart of a hunter, and anyone that lives to see another day learns the value of a well placed thought.

But in the end, I had no choice, I suppose. "Concoct your elixir, Elder. Bring it to me post haste. Or I may choose a few of your people for demonstrations."

It had been a while since I impaled someone. I was bored, and that might just relieve some of the tension.

That evening, after draining some poor bastard that just happened to be passing by at the wrong time and settling back into my coffin, I waited for the elixir to take effect.

At first, I thought nothing was happening. Then, the lid of my coffin flew off, and standing there was Richter Belmont.

Funny, I thought he had died a few decades ago.

The man looked at me and then spoke in a voice that was and wasn't his.

"Get up and follow me. We have much to see."

And I did, to my surprise. I guess that I was intrigued enough to wonder what was going on.

He led me to a large stone basin, filled with what looked to be mercury or molten silver. I looked at its rippling surface and saw gauzy images within the liquid.

"So what is this, Belmont? I have no time for games."

Richter looked at me, amused. "You fail to realize that the affects of the Orpheus have already taken hold of you, vampire. How else would I be able to communicate with you, being dead some fifteen years now? Events have been carefully planned to allow this meeting. A great tragedy is coming, Count."

"Ah, war, how delightful," I said, lips quirking at the thought. Maybe that was what I needed after I cured myself of this dratted curse.

"You fail to understand my meaning, Count. The tragedy I speak of is not just of human concerns. It entails your kind as well. There will not be survivors of either predator or prey."

I looked at him askance, not believing. "And why should I believe you, one whose family is dedicated to wiping me out?"

He looked at me, and for the first time I caught the hint of a second image overlaid on his, one of flowing robes and great wings furled behind his back.

"Because I am not he, but a messenger using his guise. In this, you will be the deciding factor of the war, and though much violence will come during it, only you and the love of another will be able to end the chaos that is promised."

"But chaos is so delightful," I said. "Why would I wish to stop it?"

The angel looked at me. "Because in time, you will. You will become tamed by your own hand and bow before a human master by choice."

I burst out laughing at that, it was so absurd. Me, Dracula, Prince of Walachia, Count of the local area of Romania, Lord of the Night, bow to a human?

The messenger ignored my mirth. "My words ring true, vampire. In time, you will believe, and at that point the journey towards redemption will begin."

I woke, and in the weeks that followed I forgot the strange visions as I amused myself with the impaling of a few villagers and a foray into Turkey.

But then Van Helsing stepped into my life, and I remembered the vision, and for the first time in my life I wondered if God did exist.

If He did, then that meant what the vision had shown me would be real, and soon too.

In the years subsequent to my submitting to Van Helsing, I came across a publication from a young writer named George Ripley, taking on the form of an ancient scroll. One line in the middle caught my eye, and after finishing the rede, I decided that things were falling into place. I had the words etched into the coffin that I had taken to England when I traveled with my 'captor' several decades ago.

_The Bird of Hermes is my name,  
__Eating my wings to make me tame._

How ironic, that my pride has bound me to this farce of a prison, in hopes of a redemption if I fall? I have to be insane.

Wait.

I am.

Heh.

Ha ha ha, heh he he heh.

Wonderful. Now the real fun begins.


	13. Dancing on the Killing Fields I

Sir Winston Churchill said that being shot at focuses the mind wonderfully.

You know, he's right.

It was in the middle of a battlefield in Heidelberg, Germany in the dead of winter. The wounds of the freshly killed soldiers steamed, creating a wonderfully ghastly scene. I looked around at the carnage, my mouth watering at the thought of all the blood spilled on the frozen ground. It was then that I came across the first group of the ghouls Walter and I had been sent to find.

They were only ghouls, after all, but the sheer number of them was impressive, and they seemed to retain some of their intelligence, somehow. It was shaping into an excellent chance for a workout, and I hefted the Armscorp 40mm MGL with a grin. I smiled, ready for the kill. My Russian style hat bobbled as I took aim and began firing. Walter waited till I finished the first volley before leaping in with his wires, slicing ghouls like so much tissue-paper. He seemed to enjoy it, too.

We got along so well in those days.

And we danced on the killing fields, ripping ghoul and Nazi soldier apart alike. Oh, to think that this was work I was more or less being paid to do! I impaled a soldier on the hitching rod of a wagon before swiping my hand through the throat of another, the white fur of my hat becoming stained with the red and my leather gloves creaked as I flexed my fingers.

As the last enemy fell, I threw back my head and let loose with a horrific laugh that echoed in the night sky, followed by a long howl that set wolves everywhere within earshot to respond in kind and I cried out to my companion.

"Listen to them, Walter! The children of the night, don't they make lovely music? Listen to it, the song of my realm, the Symphony of the night!"

The young man smiled, the cigarette dangling from his lips. "We better get along, Alucard. We're supposed to meet the regulars at the rally point by dawn. That's where they've got your coffin, in case you've forgotten."

I smiled, breathing in the smell of blood, of death and pain, feeling the death wish wind blowing into the life.

It had been so long since I dared set foot on the plains of Death, and it felt good.

And it had just begun, this dance of death.

Plenty more time to go dancing on the killing fields again before back to dreary England.

I let out another laugh, stepping on the head of a ghoul that wasn't quite dead yet.

"Sing, O Children of Darkness! Cry out, O Dogs of the Wild! The Killing Time has come, and Death has come to claim his keep!"

* * *

A/N: Anyone that can email me the references I make in this chapter gets a cookie...there is one reference to art, one to a game, one to a book, and one to a song. 


	14. Dancing on the Killing Fields II

A/N: Here is the action from Elevator Action II. I couldn't make out what he said as he stepped from his room, so I just put something in. If anyone knows what he actually says, please let me know.

Now for prize awarding. Reikson is right as far as Castlevania: Symphony of the Night references, but that was it. The line about the Children of the night was from Dracula, the look of Alucard and the title was from Pu-sama's art on Deviantart, and the song lyric, Feeling the death wish, was from the Hellsing OST album Raid. However, he was close with the Caleb Carr's novel...I completely forgot about that piece of fiction. I'll have to work in things from it later on. But, a chocolate chunk and pecan cookie to Reikson!

Just so everyone knows, I'll be going back when I finish this story and expanding on his thoughts, his ideas. Right now I just need to get the basics out before I loose them.

* * *

They're coming. 

I can smell the fear, the anxiety of the soldiers approaching; I can see it in the faces of the men in the helicopter hovering outside our suite.

It's time for war.

How delightful. It's been a long time since I've had any true fun.

The Police Girl is hiding inside a small closet, allowing me to take care of the intruders.

Ah, there they are now.

They sweep through the rooms, weapons raised. I can see that they have orders to shoot first and not ask questions. I blend into the shadows of my room, keeping an eye on my coffin, the only one left from my trip to England. They sweep into the room, frustration and confusion rolling off them like sweat. One of them nudges the cloth a bit further off my coffin to read the inscription.

"The bird of Hermes is my name, eating my wings to…make me tame? What is this?"

"Don't touch my coffin," I say as I step out, making myself appear as frightful as I can.

They all spin, weapons drawn.

"Don't Touch My Coffin!" I say again.

As they train their weapons, I give them the reason to shoot, shouting, raving.

"GET AWAY, GET AWAY FROM MY COFFIN!"

I hear the command to fire, and then the impact as the countless rounds slam into me. I fall backwards, listening to their frightened breathing as they collect themselves and the commander issues the order to search for the girl.

"Damned hounds," I mutter.

They freeze, not wanting to turn around and see what is surely happening.

"Your power is impressive," I say as I pick myself up, regenerating.

"But I cannot be killed by a pack of dogs. That which defeats a monster,"

I stand fully upright, my hair flying back, my image backlit by the light of the moon coming in through the window.

"Is always a man."

The first soldier died as I latched onto his neck and hurled him backwards, his blood flowing down my throat. "One," I say, cocking my arms for the next attack.

The damn fools were too scared to even move more than a step or two as I rip through them. One manages to shake free of his fright enough to rush for the door.

As I hold it closed mentally, I step forward and speak directly into his mind. "It won't open," I say as I continue to drink from the wound of the soldier in my mouth.

He turns, gasps and draws his pistol. I step forward, letting the dead man drop from my jaws.

"Fr-F-fr-FREAK!" the man cowering at the door sputters.

"I get that a lot," I say, blood trickling down my chin. "But then, what does that make you? A Man, A Dog, or a freak?"

The man just cowers, whimpering,and then turns his pistol on his own skull and fires. I just look at the body in surprise, and then I snarl as I feel a strange hollowness inside.

"You can come out now," I say, turning to go look out the window.

The Police Girl comes out, and then gasps.

"Get ready. We're evacuating the premises."

She mutters something. "What?"

"They, they're humans."

"What's your point?"

I grab the collar of her shirt, hoisting her face to face with me. "What's your point, Draculina? What does it matter if the ones who bring war to us are humans or not? They came to us, to defeat, kill, and make us rot away, or to be defeated, killed, and rot away themselves. That's the way of war! They bet everything they had on their own weak hands! I HAD to kill them."

She started to tremble.

"That's the truth. No one can change that, not God, not the Devil, not me, certainly not you."

She started to stutter again, and a thought hit me, as well as some slight grief at lashing out as I did.

"No,"

I released her, and she looked at me in surprise.

"That's it, that's it exactly."

I spun, heading for the other room. "Come with me, Seras. Follow me in fear through the darkest gloom."

I picked up the phone, dialing the number that would patch me through to Integra's office directly.

She took a while to pick up, and I heard her cool voice ask "Who is this? Foe? Friend?"

"It is your humble servant, Integra," I say, making the words only slightly subservient.

"Orders, give me your orders, my Master."

After quickly updating her on the situation, I laid the way of things out.

"Now I will wield the gun, I will put ammo in the magazine, pull the slide and release the safety. I will determine its aim and pull the trigger. But what will kill them is your intent," I say, hearing the silence on the other end.

"So, what are my orders, Hellsing Director Sir Integral Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing?"

There was another moment or two of silence, then I heard a slamming sound, one that I recognized from the many times I had pushed her past the point of her patience, the sound of her hand hitting the oak of her desk.

"DON'T TOY WITH ME, SERVANT! MY ORDERS HAVE NOT CHANGED! SEARCH AND DESTROY, SEARCH AND DESTROY! ANY OBSTACLES ARE TO BE CRUSHED UNDERFOOT. DO NOT RUN AND HIDE, BUT GO AND MEET THEM HEAD ON! DO NOT LET ANYTHING HINDER YOU!"

I broke out laughing; it was so delightful to hear her order the outright slaughter of her fellow humans, allowing me to do as I would.

"Excellent, that is the final fig leaf. It prompts a stirring in my loins, Integra. In that case, I'm going out shooting. Keep watching."

I hung up, and turned to look out the window again. Seras came back, letting me know that the coffins were ready for transport. I turned to her, looking at her slightly frightened aura.

"Take those up to the roof. Steal a helicopter and escape."

She sputtered, asking what I was going to do.

Smiling, I just looked at her as I pulled my pistols out. "I still have to check out, so I'll be leaving through the front door. Someone has to teach them who've they've just picked a fight with."

I left the suite, seeing the large number of soldiers gathered outside. I smiled.

"Saludos, mis amigos. Recepción al tiempo de la matanza."

I walked out, my frockcoat flowing behind me like a cloak, all of the men motionless, breathing hard in fright. Then, one pulled the trigger, setting off the rockslide.

As men fell or ran, I laughed, drinking my fill and making the scene more frightening than the situation really was. I could hear the radio man screaming into the transceiver to their HQ that it was turning to hell, and that the monster was coming for them.

Ah, the sweet sound of fear, it makes such a lovely tune. And it makes the blood taste so much better, as well.

I made my visage as frightening as I could as I walked down the hall towards the lift, blood flowing down my face, the only wounds to my person being a few small holes in the hem of my jacket. They stared at me as they crammed into the elevator.

I captured the mind of one of them, making him hold the doors open. His mind was weak, like Renfield's had been, but it served its purpose. The shot him and shoved him out into the hall. He crawled weakly towards me, his hand reaching up in supplication. I ended his suffering without even looking. The doors were sliding closed again.

I reached out, the barrels of my pistols stopping the progress of their salvation. "Open Sesame," I said, humor undercoating my words.

As the doors slid open, I could see the looks on their face. They were trapped, no place to run. They knew they were dead. The elevator action had doomed them.

"You've done your duty well, soldiers," I said, raising the Joshua.

"Farewell."

By the time the elevator reached the lobby, both clips had been emptied, and I stepped forward, reloading and shooting the few men left as rearguards.

I stood there, dissatisfied. I had just been allowed to fulfill my bloodlust, to kill as I wished and feed on the bodies, yet it felt hollow.

"Damn them," I mutter, wondering if the years as a servant of the Hellsings had tamed me. Then I heard the flutter of the news helicopter's rotors, and I knew that I wasn't done yet. I smiled as I thought of the perfect way to let them know what had happened to the men they had sent in.

I stepped from the Hotel Del Rio, the spotlights casting my shadow up the wall. I raised my hands, indicating the six men impaled on the flagpoles lining the walkway and smiled, knowing that whoever was behind it all was watching.

"Now come out, I've had my fill of the smorgasbord. Or do I have to fill this place with the dead?"

A man stepped forward, resplendent in a white suit and fedora. He bowed eloquently and tipped his hat.

I could see his yellowed eyes from here.

How wonderful.


	15. Toys of the Trade: The Jackal

Ah, _this _is truly a weapon worthy of my talents. I remember well when I got it. Walter had been working on it for some time when he brought it to me. After seeing it sitting in the case, I ached to feel its weight in my hand.

I picked it up, savoring its heft and balance as Walter reeled off the stats.

"The 13mm Anti-Freak combat pistol, Jackal. 39cm long, it weighs in at sixteen kilograms. Unlike the rounds you've been using in the .454 Casull, this pistol uses specially made 13mm exploding ammunition, six round magazines. No human could handle this pistol."

"The casings?" I asked as I slid the magazine home.

"Pure silver, Macedonia processed."

"Charge?"

"Marvel Chemical Cartridges, N.N.A.9."

"The tips, Exploding or Mercury?"

"Mercury Ignition, and they've already been blessed."

I looked at the aging butler. "It's perfect, Walter."

"I am pleased you like it," the old man said, smiling and bowing.

"I'd bet I could take down Anderson with this," I said, looking at its beauty.

"Oh, is it that powerful?" piped the Police Girl as she came into the room.

"Ah, Miss Victoria," Walter said, picking up another case.

I kind of tuned out the ensuing conversation. I knew she was going to explode as Walter hauled out the two meter plus Harkonnen.

Maybe I shouldn't have planted that idea into Walter's head. She seemed to get a bit agitated at the man.

I still remember admiring it several hours later, still in awe of that magnificent piece of modern technology, and the raw power it can unleash.

It's such a shame that the damned doctor of Millennium destroyed it. I somewhat miss it, though I now have something even sweeter in mind.

But that's a story for another time…right now, I have a date with Walter, one that I have been commanded to be the only one to walk away from.

This promises to be fun.


End file.
